


Of Family and HYDRA and Bad Decisions

by NeverAndAlways



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Clint Barton, Childbirth, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Complete, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Mpreg, Nursing, Protective Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:55:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clint is very pregnant and also very stubborn, and his husband is protective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

If you get on the elevator at the Avengers Tower, you'll eventually come to the floor where they all reside (provided you have the security codes to actually get in). Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov, Thor, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers...only one apartment, the one at the end of the hall, belongs to both an Avenger and a SHIELD agent: Clint Barton and Phil Coulson. It's a nice apartment, a bit big for two people but that's okay, because they won't be two for much longer. Clint is 34 weeks pregnant, and it's driving him crazy. He's supposed to be resting. He hates it. He hates not being able to work, especially now with rumors of a HYDRA attack on the horizon. And Phil is still working- of course, the man never stops working -so Clint is spending a lot of time by himself. He's probably read every book in the Tower's library, some of them twice, and several of them aloud to the baby (he was bored, okay?). It's nice when Phil has time to stop by the apartment and check on him, even if he does fret. If anything, it's a reprieve from the boredom.

"Clint? It's me."

The apartment door clicks open and shut, and Clint puts down his latest book- or at least he tries to, but it just lands upside-down on his belly. His husband comes into the room just as he's trying to extract himself from the nest of pillows and blankets he's constructed on the couch.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"How're you feeling?"

Clint massages his belly. "Tired and sore. And huge. And kinda sick of reading. You?"

"Well, I spent the morning reading reports on HYDRA, if that's any indication." Phil wedges himself in between his husband and a throw pillow. "How's the kid?"

"Running out of room." Clint shifts and scoots lower in his nest. "I've started reading him the dictionary to keep him from kicking."

"Does it work?"

"Of course not."

Phil doesn't quite know what to say to this. He kisses Clint's forehead instead. "Six more weeks."

Clint groans. Six more weeks carting around this huge belly? No thanks. "I talked to Bruce, speaking of which." he paws his way out of the blanket nest and hauls himself up off the couch. "He says Baby's dropped, and everything's more or less in position." Phil looks a little terrified at this. That's a rare occurence; nothing- almost nothing -scares Agent Phil Coulson. Except maybe the impending birth of his child. Clint smiles and shuffles away into the bedroom, returning a moment later with another pillow from the bed which he stuffs into the back of the nest. Then he eases himself back into it and sighs.

"Comfortable?" Phil chuckles.

"No." normally he would have come back with a smart remark, but he's way too tired. Baby jabs a sharp little elbow into his spine, right on cue, making him see stars. Stop it already, kid. Another nudge, this time from the outside, makes him open his eyes. Phil is looking at him. "What?"

"I said, is there anything I can do?"

Clint sighs again. "No. Just put up with your house-sized husband for six more weeks."

Clint doesn't say anything, just smiles and leans in for another kiss. Before he can get there, though, his phone buzzes. He settles for a peck on the cheek before answering. "Coulson here...no, I'm with Barton. Yes, he's fine, I'm just checking on him...alright, I'll be there in five." he snaps his phone shut and sighs.

"Duty calls?"

"Always." Phil kisses him again, properly this time. He holds it as long as he can before pulling away. "This should only take a few more hours. Think you'll be okay?"

"I'm fine, boss. Just go." Clint says affectionately. A smile crinkles at the corners of Phil's eyes as he stands up.

"Dinner tonight. My treat." he says over his shoulder.

"Is that a threat, Agent?"

"Could be."

Clint huffs out a weak laugh. "Hey, Phil."

"Hey, what?" his husband stops in the doorway and looks back.

"Love you."

Phil smiles, signs 'I love you' back to him, and then he's gone and Clint is alone. He looks at the tangle of blankets and pillows surrounding him and tries to wiggle his way back into them, with little success. Dammit. Now he has to rebuild his nest.

~**  ¤¤¤  **~


	2. Chapter 2

Now fast-forward a little. Clint is 37 weeks pregnant, and he has had quite enough of resting. He's convinced both his husband and Director Fury to let him resume some of his duties. Nothing strenuous- just enough to keep him busy for a few hours every day. It might not be practicing in the archery range or training junior agents with Phil, but patrolling the Tower and monitoring surveillance tapes sure beats sitting alone in the apartment (even though he has a sneaking suspicion that Natasha has been assigned to keep an eye on him). He knows that Phil worries about him, and with good reason: a HYDRA threat is serious and if they attack (when they attack) he'll be vulnerable. So he keeps his bow and arrows on him at all times. And even if she was assigned to him, it's good to hang out with Natasha again. For one thing, she doesn't worry like Phil (actually, she doesn't talk about Baby at all unless Clint brings it up) and for another...well, she's Natasha. He really looks up to her. And there's the fact that she's saved his ass many times over the years- which is a different story altogether. She's also a huge nerd and she's got a wicked sense of humor, but don't tell anyone.

-

"...I'm just saying, he gives me the creeps."

"Really, Barton? A movie populated by muppets, and **he** creeps you out?"

"YES."

"You're weird when you're pregnant."

"What d'you mean? I'm always weird."

Clint and Natasha are on patrol. They've made it through most of the Tower, but it's taking a while because Clint has to keep stopping to sit down. That's okay, though; it gives them more time to talk, and gives Clint more time out of the apartment. At the moment, they're discussing Labyrinth. Or they were, anyway. They seem to have called a truce. They walk in silence for a little while until they reach an outer hallway, lined on one side with floor-to-ceiling windows. New York City sprawls beneath them, packed and busy and dollhouse-sized from this far up. Mid-summer sunlight blazes in from a dazzling blue sky. It's a nice day, in spite of the Yellow Alert the Avengers have been on for over a week. It must be on Natasha's mind as well as Clint's, because she speaks up as they enter the hall.

"I'm suprised Coulson is still okay with you wandering around the Tower."

Clint snorts with amusement. "I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I don't know if HYDRA's really coming after us, Nat. I think they just wanna keep us on our toes."

"HYDRA doesn't make idle threats."

"I know, but if they haven't attacked us by now, they probably won't."

"You sound awfully sure of yourself."

"Yeah, well, it's better than being scared all the time. And I've got bigger things to worry about right now." Clint ghosts one hand back and forth over his belly as he talks. "Speaking of which..." he veers off toward one of the windows and lowers himself to the ground with his back to it. A quiet groan of discomfort escapes him. Natasha just leans against the wall parallel to him and keeps talking.

"So how many weeks now?"

The archer opens one eye. "Three."

"Feels more like three years, huh?"

"Something like that." Clint closes his eye again. "God, Nat, you should see Phil. He's so damn happy."

"And you aren't?"

"No, I am. I'm just sick of being a living incubator."

Natasha laughs at this. It's a sound most people don't get to hear- but then, Clint isn't most people. They've known each other long enough to share at least some of their secrets, and in a way this is one of them. "I still can't believe you're pregnant." she says.

"Why?"

"Well, you're an Avenger. You're the famous Hawkeye."

"And Avengers can't have families, is that what you're saying?"

"No. I just...wouldn't have expected you of all people to have a baby."

Clint either ignores or doesn't notice her sudden change in tone. "Honestly? Me neither. But-"

"Barton...?"

"-here I am anyway. And maybe this isn't the best place-"

" **Barton**."

"-to raise a kid, but we'll make it work-"

"CLINT."

"What??"

"You should move."

"Why?"

"Don't ask. Just get up, as fast as you can, and walk toward me. Now." her voice is slow and calm and level and should be reassuring, but Clint has heard that tone before. He does as he's told and starts to pull himself to his feet, panting with the effort. That's when he hears it: the whistling drone of an aircraft engine, and not a civilian plane either. And it's getting closer. Suddenly Natasha's hands are on his arms, yanking him upright and out of the way, and he gets just a glimpse of the sleek black HYDRA craft hovering outside before the thing starts shooting at them. Then instinct takes over and he runs (well, waddles quickly) back the way they came. Behind him Natasha is shouting into her headset, then shouting at him to keep running, but he's already grabbing for his bow and arrows. He notches a long-range arrow into the bow and is looking for a good target when she skids to a halt beside him.

"Clint, what are you doing?" she hisses. "Get back to your apartment, we can handle this one."

"Are you kidding?? I'm not going anywhere." he takes aim and looses the arrow, which flies through a broken pane of glass and straight into the underbelly of the hovering ship. It ignites when it lands and the ship falters, but not enough. He reaches for another arrow- and finds Natasha's hand instead. "Nat, what are you-?"

"I don't want to explain to your husband why you ended up MIA three weeks from your due date. You're a walking target, Clint. Get yourself someplace safe."

The hall behind them is already swarming with SHIELD agents. Clint knows as well as anyone that HYDRA wouldn't send just one ship; if they want a fight, they're going to go all-out. They need all the help they can get. He just stares at Natasha, because she knows it too. "I have to help, Nat. I'll be fine. Sniper, remember?"

There's no convincing him otherwise, so Natasha just nods briskly. "Just stay out of sight." then she pulls her gun from its holster, unlocks it, and is gone. Finally. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss this. He notches another arrow and goes to find a good vantage point. Just as he thought, he can hear at least three more ships approaching and despite the situation he feels a little smug, but he doesn't have long to savor it, because the approaching ships apparently have much bigger guns. The blast hits just a few meters behind him. It's deafening and overwhelming and he can only curl in on himself as chunks of wall hit the ground around him. Once his hearing returns, he sits up. There's rubble everywhere and the hall is effectively sealed off at one end, but he seems to be in once piece...he jams his headset back into his ear.

"Barton to Romanov."

Static.

"Barton to Agent Coulson."

Static. 

"Barton to any available Agent, please respond."

Static. Looks like he's on his own. With his back to the wall, Clint slowly pushes himself upright and waits a moment for the roaring in his ears to stop. Okay...okay. First, assess the situation. There are still HYDRA ships outside, and he thinks he hears gunfire somewhere deeper inside the building, but there's nothing he can do unless he can find a way to get there. That's his priority. So he sets off, bow in hand.

-

"Barton to anyone who can hear me, please respond."

It's been well over an hour, and Clint might as well be right back where he started. That's how much progress he hasn't made. His back and shoulders and hips all hurt, which is forcing him to stop and rest way more often than he'd like, and he can't hear the HYDRA ships anymore. And he still can't get to Natasha, or Phil, or Agent Hill, or any of the other Avengers. For all he knows, HYDRA might've taken over the whole damn tower, and he's the last Avenger still alive. Staying calm is becoming more and more difficult. But he won't panic, because what good would that do? Instead he looks around, tries to weigh his options. There aren't many. There's a staircase at the end of the hall, but it only leads up to the previous floor; the storage closet behind him doesn't have a crawlspace; the windows open to a ledge, but it's a long way down and he's in no condition to be scaling walls. The only other possibility would be the access hatch across from him, but it's pretty far up on the wall and it's...moving? Clint stares. The steel panel shakes and rattles. Something bangs on it from the inside. He reaches for his bow; the next moment, the hatch flies off the wall with an almighty CLANG and clatters to the floor. A face emerges, and for a moment Clint is hopeful, but it's nobody he knows. It's a HYDRA agent, so slender she's almost gaunt. She seems just as surprised as Clint. She gets over it faster than he does, though, and slides out of the access hatch to land neatly on the concrete floor. They circle each other for just a moment before she lunges. Clint ducks away from her initial swing. He's acutely aware of how vulnerable he is, and how much maneuverability he's lost to pregnancy. The last thing he wants to do is fight, but since there's no choice- he throws a punch of his own. She easily blocks it and lands a ringing blow to the side of his head. He staggers. His next shot is deflected too, and the next, but he's really just trying to keep her a good distance away from himself. Finally his fist connects with her nose. Her hands fly to her face. He takes advantage of the delay and snatches up his bow. But by the time he turns around, she's pulled a weapon of her own: a mean-looking knife. Damn. Clint circles her again. First he kicks for the back of her knees. That almost takes his own feet out from under him. She goes for his bow, leaving a nick in the side of it. He raises his foot as far as his belly will let him and aims a kick to her stomach. With the wind knocked out of her sails, she staggers. He swings his bow into the side of her head, and she staggers again. But she's going the wrong way, so he steps back toward the window. And sure enough, when she recovers a little, she goes for him again. They end up locked together. She's trying to reach him with the knife, and he's trying to keep it as far away as possible. It nicks his arm- not much, but enough to make him yelp -and he staggers a bit. But he manages to swing around hard, letting his belly give him momentum, and throws her toward the window. There's the sound of shattering glass, and she's gone. He turns away.

Almost immediately he gasps and doubles over. A sharp pain radiates through his abdomen; did the HYDRA agent manage to stab him? Did the glass cut him? He looks down and finds his answer. There's a puddle growing between his feet: his water broke.

The baby's coming.

~**  ¤¤¤  **~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...
> 
> (If you like the story so far, please leave a comment- I'd love to hear from you!)


	3. Chapter 3

The static crackle of Clint's headset wakes him up from a nap he didn't know he was taking. A while ago, he'd retreated to the previous floor to ride out the contractions in relative safety...apparently he'd felt safe enough to doze off.

"...do you copy?"

"Barton here."

"Clint??"

His heart leaps. That's Phil's voice! "Hey, boss."

"Oh, thank god. Where are you?"

"I, uh...I don't know exactly. I think I'm near the top floor." ugh, he can't even think straight. Another contraction is building; he tries to sound calm, but you have to get up pretty early to fool Agent Coulson.

"Clint, are you alright...?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

"Alright, just stay where you are. I've got a team out looking for you."

"Understood."

God, they'd better get here soon.

-

"Agent Coulson to Barton, do you copy?"

When the contraction finally releases its hold, Clint only has enough breath to gasp, "Yeah."

"We can't get a good lock on your position, Clint. I need you to move. Stark is flying around the exterior; go to a window so he can see you."

"I, uh...I can't, sir."

"Are you injured?"

"Not exactly. But I can't- I can't move."

"Barton, what's going on?"

"I'm okay, Phil. Just hurry. Please."

Phil has probably realized by now what's happening, but he doesn't let on: his next words are measured and carefully professional. "Understood. Just hang on, Barton. We'll get you out of there."

Clint presses himself against the wall and grits his teeth, breathing fast and harsh through his nose. Even speaking seems to take tremendous concentration. The contractions are coming hard and fast, with barely any time between one and the next, and the pressure is almost unbearable. Another one takes him by surprise and he lets out a growl of frustration. This is all wrong. He should be back in the apartment with Phil, having his baby in a safe, familiar place. Instead he's stuck here- wherever 'here' is - and it's looking more and more like he'll be delivering alone. It's getting harder to resist the urge to push; he doesn't want to deliver here, but if Phil's team doesn't get here soon, he might not have a choice. He draws his knees up to his chest to try and relieve some of the pressure. It doesn't help much. To hell with it- maybe someone will hear him if he screams.

As the echoes mix into each other and fade, Clint realizes, a little too late, that he was bearing down with the contraction. He swears. "No...no no no no..." But things are already moving along- even as he shifts around and tries to find a more comfortable position, another contraction is starting up. Looks like he's out of time. He gives in and lets himself push with it, and when it's over he peels off his pants and flings them aside. Then he maneuvers around so he's half-kneeling, half-squatting with one knee on the ground. At the next contraction, he takes a deep breath and pushes hard, and almost surprises himself with the sound he makes. But it's progress: Baby's moved down a little. So he pushes again, letting another yell crescendo out of him; when he reaches down, his fingertips just brush against the crown of Baby's head before it disappears. It hurts like hell and he wishes Phil was here, or Natasha, or SOMEONE, just so he doesn't have to do this alone-

THUD. THUD.

His head snaps up; the sound is coming from the sealed end of the corridor. A sizeable piece of concrete breaks off and crumbles to the floor. Oh god, not more HYDRA agents...he reaches for his bow, but it's too far away and his legs won't respond, and the urge to push is building again. At least he's behind a wall.

THUD. THUD.

The contraction works its way across his belly in a surge and he bears down so hard that the edges of his vision go black. He screams; well, now-whoever-it-is definitely knows he's here. Baby slides forward a little more, then slides back. Riding the end of the contraction, he pushes again, and it stays. 

THUD. CRACK.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK-" Clint pants and leans forward over his belly. It burns. Baby seems to be forcing its way out, and he shrieks inadvertently when the head finally slips free. There's a short pause after that, enough for him to scoot further out of sight. Once he's settled, he reaches down again to make sure everything's okay. His breath catches in his throat when he brushes against a tiny, wrinkled forehead; that's his baby, the little creature that had up till now been just a vague thing inside him, just a heartbeat and endless elbows and knees and fists that kept him awake at night. And now it's nearly here.

CRACK. CRUNCH.

They're almost through. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let's do this." With one hand cupping Baby's head, he takes a deep breath and pushes. It feels bizarre when the shoulders rotate inside him; he catches the arms as they emerge and pushes again. There's the shoulders and torso, then the legs, and then he's shuffling backward to catch his baby as it almost slides past his hands. "Oh. Oh my god-" his first thought is that Phil should be here. Baby is already bawling and flailing his tiny limbs like he's trying to take his anger out on the whole world. Clint's not usually one for crying, but there sure are tears in his eyes now. He's exhausted, everything hurts, there's blood and fluids all over the floor beneath him, and he's completely in awe of the little being screaming in his arms. He half-sits, half-falls backward, cradling Baby closer to his chest. "Hi, kid." he whispers. Then suddenly there's a spectacular, rumbling crash from the end of the hall, and a cold hand closes around his heart. There are footsteps clattering towars him. He lays Baby in his lap and feels around for his weapon, and by the time the footsteps reach him, he's got an arrow notched into his bow and is aiming with shaking hands. But the face he narrowly avoids shooting a moment later isn't the one he expected. It's an Asgardian face, with longish blond hair and stubble on the chin: Thor. Thor looks him up and down briefly, then turns to yell over his shoulder.

"I have found him!!" Thor sets Mjolnir on the floor and starts toward Clint.

More footsteps, then Natasha appears around the corner and waves Thor away. When she reaches Clint and crouches next to him, the worry in her eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

"ты идиот." she hisses, maybe to cover it up. "Coulson's gonna kill me. If he doesn't kill you first." She doesn't seem at all concerned that he's currently bloody and nude from the waist down, but he is. He grabs his discarded pants and drapes them over himself with one hand. His other hand is holding Baby against his chest; the infant is calmer now, his cries replaced by little irritable noises.

"Where is he?"

"Coulson? He's in Fury's office, wearing a hole in the floor. And **you** are going straight to Medical; I've called a team, they should be right behind us." she looks down at Baby, nestled in Clint's arms. "I'm sorry you had to do that alone."

"Yeah, me too." Clint cracks a wry smile at Natasha. "Guess I should've listened to you, huh?"

"Yeah, but you never do." she stands up; a pair of EMTs have come around the corner. Despite his assurances that he's okay, really, they load him onto a stretcher, Baby and all, and carry him off.

-

The Tower is in better shape than he expected. Yeah, it looks like it's been through a battle, because it has, but not half as bad as when Loki paid them a visit. There are Agents everywhere, assessing the damage and making minor repairs- but no sign of **his** Agent. Not that he has much time to look, though; things kind of blur into each other once he's carted off to Medical. One minute he's on a stretcher, looking like he's been through the wringer, and the next he's in a hospital bed, clean but still sore as hell. Natasha stays with him the whole time, but she doesn't talk to him at all and that's okay. He can't take his eyes off his baby...he's gorgeous. The kid already has Phil's stern expression. And he's hungry, too; after a few false starts, he latches on for his first meal. Clint just watches him, and he's barely aware of time passing until he hears a commotion out in the hall.

"...What do you mean, I can't go in??"

"You're not authorized to be here, sir, only immediate family members-"

"Dammit, I am his HUSBAND. Now let me through...!"

That breaks the spell; Clint looks up just in time to see his husband burst through the door, followed by a rather put-upon junior Agent. Phil freezes. He looks unusually bedraggled.

"Hey boss." Clint manages half a smile. His throat feels like sandpaper. Phil is beside him in an instant, having shooed the junior Agent away. He looks down at Baby- done with his meal and now dozing contentedly -and his eyes widen.

"Oh my god." is all he says.

"Congratulations, 'dad'."

Natasha unfolds herself from the chair by the bed. "I'll leave you three alone." she says pointedly, and exits the room. The moment she leaves, Phil is no longer Agent Coulson. He's just Phil. He turns off his headset, takes off his suit jacket, and sits down on the bed next to his husband. Clint can see in Phil's face all the questions he wants to ask. Phil doesn't say a word, though, just sits and studies his sleeping son's face, takes in every detail of him. Drawing one finger along the shell of Baby's ear, he pauses to cautiously touch the bandage on Clint's bicep.

"What happened here?"

Clint shrugs it off. "HYDRA agent. Came through an access hatch."

Phil's eyes harden. "You really should have listened to Romanov, Clint. You would've been safer in the apartment."

"HYDRA was launching an attack on us, Phil, you can't expect me to just sit back and watch."

"I can when you're nine months pregnant!"

"Phil, please don't do this right now. I am way too tired for this shit."

Baby wakes up suddenly and starts to cry. Clint rocks and shushes him until he's calm again. "Had to add your two cents to the conversation, huh?" he murmurs. "It's okay, your dad and I were just talking." this last sentence comes with a pointed glance at Phil, who sighs and looks away for a moment. When he looks back, his expression is much softer.

"I'm sorry. I'm glad you're okay- both of you. I wish I could've been there."

"Me too." Clint looks up, cracks another half-smile, and nods for Phil to move closer. He may not have been there for the birth, but he's here now and that's just as important. Clint scoots over as much as the narrow bed and his sore muscles will allow, Phil slides in next to him, and he leans into his husband's solid form. They stay that way for a few minutes. Then Clint rearranges himself a little and gently bounces Baby awake. "Hey, Alex. Don't go to sleep yet, there's someone I want you to meet." he whispers as he hands the baby to its nervous father.

"Hello, Alexander. I'm your dad." was it Clint's imagination, or did Phil's voice just crack? "God, Clint, he's perfect..."

"Well, yeah. He's **our** kid." Clint chuckles at the look this earns him. "I just gave birth an hour ago, Phil. Let me gloat." Phil snorts and returns to counting fingers and toes. "I have a question," Clint adds.

"Hm?"

"Did you really assign Nat to keep an eye on me?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that allegation." Phil replies in his best SHIELD Agent voice.

"Pfft. Liar."

"Who, me? Never."

The new parents sit in silence for a while longer, just marvelling at the tiny new life between them. Every so often there's a distant CRASH or a BANG from the repairs that are still going on, but things are peaceful for now. Baby Alexander is asleep in no time; he seems comforted by his parents' presence. Clint takes a bit longer to doze off. Exhausted as he is, he just stares down at his sleeping baby as though he can never get enough...but he does eventually give up. Before he falls asleep, though, he musters his few remaining brain cells to sit up a little.

"Hey, Phil." he slurs sleepily.

"Hey, what?"

Clint presses their lips together in a slow, lazy kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too."

~**  ☆☆☆  **~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'ты идиот': supposed to be 'you idiot'. If I've got this wrong, please feel free to let me know!  
> -  
> If you liked the story, please leave a comment- I'd love to hear from you!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story so far, please leave a comment- I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
